


Bygone

by orionCipher



Series: IgNoct Week 2017 [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 16:20:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11695377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orionCipher/pseuds/orionCipher
Summary: Day 3Situational: Reincarnation/Time Travel AU





	Bygone

He’s pretty sure he died, but Noct wakes up with a scream.  
His eyes don’t work right and he feels gross and weak and from what little he can see the world around him is a jumbled, desaturated mess. He’s tired and, wanting nothing to do with it, he sleeps. Time flies like this, his internal clock at best inept, but before too long he realizes something pretty shitty: one, he’s a baby; and two: that’s _definitely_ diaper rash.

….

For Ignis it’s been seven years since he lost his king, and he’s never fully moved on. He’s on a plush monthly stipend – for his duties to king and crown, and as reparations for his glaring lack of sight – and sits comfortably in one of the plentiful apartment buildings in the rebuilt Insomnia. It’s by a river and has a lovely view of the castle front, or so he’s been told. He wakes in the mornings with an alarm, muddles through the day with the radio droning in the background, or maybe an audiobook depending on his mood, and struggles to stay diurnal enough that he’s available for his afternoon calls from Gladiolus and Prompto.

Gladio is back in the castle, working his ass off to train up the city and crowns guard alike, their new liege a cousin to the Caelum through Queen Aulea, and the first of their new line. The last time they’d spoken had been on the auspicious news of Gladiolus’ wife’s pregnancy – twins, the doctors said. He and Iris haven’t strayed too far from the capital in some years, both comfortable living on castle grounds, but his sister does take a few trips a year to places like Lestallum and Meladacio to vend some of her decoy plushies.

Prompto, on the other hand, is traversing the world; says it’s almost like when they were all together, at least, for a little while. His photography has long since become famous and award winning, but he’s still the same bright man he’s always been, unchanged by the fame, even if his cheer has dimmed some. After years of failed relationships, he’d finally been claimed by the great Lady Aranea about a year back, to absolutely no one’s surprise. They seemed happy, together.

And Ignis is… here.  
In his apartment.  
Alone.  
He sometimes tutors the neighbor kids, but otherwise…  
He’s here.

….

Noctis is eight – _again_ – when he can finally keep track of his sense of self long enough to realize it hasn’t been so long since he apparently died that the others wouldn’t still be around somewhere. His new parents have just finished packing the last of their things and are waiting for the movers to come and whisk them from their cramped apartment on the _outskirts_ of Insomnia and dump them in a some other apartment somewhere closer to his new mother’s work in the _heart_ of Insomnia.

It’s all terribly exciting, except, you know, when it’s terrifying.

What if his friends aren’t around; what if they’ve moved on and forgotten him, or worse – but far more practically - what about when they _don’t recognize him because he’s eight and they’re all in their 40’s_? Gladio might still remember, he argues with himself – after all, he went out owing him 60 Gil and Gladio _never_ forgets a debt, not to mention he knew him when he was about this age _and_ , more importantly, Noctis still looks like himself. Like. Eerily so. New brunet dad with grey eyes and blonde blue-eyed mom just shrugged it off as something that skipped a couple generations somewhere, but Noct was still black haired with electric blue eyes.

Either way, he decided, he’d find the others if it took all of this life to do it and he’d _make_ them remember. It took four days.

The new apartment was in a massive tower of steel and polished marble designed in the manner of the Old Wall, just a few minutes’ walk from the castle he used to call home, and the man directly across the hall was none other than Ignis Scientia himself.

Well.

The years had definitely agreed with him.

Resolved, Noct decided that now was as good a time as any to do The Neighbourly Thing™.

….

It wasn’t every day that Ignis received company, let alone uninvited company, but here it was, sometime around noon if the grandfather clock hadn’t lost time again, and someone was knocking cheerily against his door.

Splendid.

He made his way over; ears open for when the kettle went, and carefully unslid the lock chain.

“Can I help you?”

“Hello!” A woman's voice, brassy and happy called from his left. “My name’s Fausta and this is my son, Lukyan!”

“Hi,” a little voice around his waist mumbled.

“We just moved in across the hall and wanted to say hi!”

“W-we brought food,” the tiny voice peeped, and Ignis could swear he’d heard it somewhere before.

“Yup! Lu here _insisted_ he make you this himself!” The woman’s voice came a touch too close, “There are cookies inside too, _just in case_.”

Charming.

With only mild fumbling they manage to safely load him up with a surprisingly heavy tupper and left with a dreadfully foreboding yet cheerful “later!”

He’d barely gotten the container to the kitchen table when the kettle called, so he poured himself a nice, hot cuppa Lemon and Ulwaat tea – though he could have _sworn_ he’d reached for the apple-mint box – and instead of grabbing his biscuit tin he made for the gifts from his new neighbours.

Inside were a ziplock bag filled with chocolate chip cookies that smelled a mite more than mildly over baked, and a large, well-wrapped loaf of…

Well now.

Ignis unwrapped it reverently, broke off a tiny piece with trembling fingers, and took a bite.

A slightly too buttery but _damn_ tasty loaf of Chiffon cake, a little crisp at the edges, just the way… Just like Noct used to make for him.

It was _so_ good.

Shakily, he pressed his hands tight over his eyes, wishing the tears would stop.

He hated crying while eating.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think?


End file.
